Interruptions
by CathGilLove
Summary: By Anne and Caroline When the team must take a trip to a body farm to brush up on basic skills, things take an interesting turn... and then keep getting interrupted.
1. Chapter 1

INTERRUPTIONS

Authors: Anne and Caroline (run for your lives!)

Chapter 1: Farm-ily Road Trip

Spoilers: Nothing specific. A minor reference to "Burden Of Proof" later on. Fourth season fic.

Genre: C/G

Rating: CSI-3 

Disclaimer: Anne and I do not own CSI or its characters. The humor/smut/sap/etc. is all our creation, however :)

Caroline's Note: Sorry this first chapter's so short, guys! The rest will be longer, don't worry.

Summary: When the team must take a trip to a body farm to brush up on basic skills, things take an interesting turn... and then keep getting interrupted.

* * *

"She'll be comin' 'round the mountain when she comes... toot, toot! She'll be comin' 'round the mountain when she comes... toot, toot! She'll be comin' 'round the mountain, she'll be comin' 'round the mountain, she'll be--"

"GREG!" Five simultaneous voices exclaimed.

Greg Sanders, from the middle of the backseat, looked around and shrugged innocently. "What?"

Grissom shook his head at the spikey-haired lab tech in his rearview mirror. "Let's put it this way. If you don't stop, you'll be comin' 'round the front bumper of the car!"

"Come on!" he whined. "Car songs are fun! Let's do another one!" He opened his mouth in preparation for a new song...

Sara clenched her teeth together, raising a fist menacingly. "So help me God, if you start singing 'The Wheels On The Bus,' I'm gonna bash your teeth in."

"Whoa..." he chuckled. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of their vibrator, huh?"

"Y'know what, Greg--"

Catherine, from the passenger seat, rolled her eyes, turning over her shoulder slightly to face her 'kids.' "Guys, come on now... we've only got another hour before our next stop."

But her admonishing tone fell on deaf ears...

"Keep your hands on YOUR side!" Warrick told Nick, from the very-back seat.

"What the hell is the matter with you, man?" Nick asked. "I'm just sitting here."

"Your hand is on MY side."

"We have sides, now?"

"Yes. In that I have my side and you have yours."

"How come they're allowed to argue and I'm not allowed to sing?" Greg asked.

Grissom turned to Catherine. "Cath..." he whined.

She turned to him. "What?"

"Do something."

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you expect me to do about it, Gil?"

"You're a mom. You're good with this kind of thing."

Her eyebrow arched even higher at this comment. "So because I'm the mother and a woman, I'm supposed to fix this?"

"Um... yes?"

"God Grissom, you're so insensitive." With that, she turned and faced the window.

The car fell into silence for a moment. Even Greg raised an eyebrow at the exchange witnessed between his superiors. Catherine turned slightly in her seat, shooting Grissom an icy glare, before turning back to Greg and smiling overly-sweetly. "Greggy, honey, why don't you sing the 'ABCs'?" she suggested in a chipper voice, and shot Grissom one more look as she spun back around, as if saying, 'Deal with that.'

Greg took no notice of Catherine's intentions, and grinned a mile wide as he exclaimed, "Okay!" and began the annoying song... subsequently causing the others to groan in agony.

Grissom glimpsed quick at the royally-pissed strawberry-blonde in the passenger seat beside him, eyeing her folded arms and tightly pursed lips before turning his eyes back to the road, leaning slightly toward her. "Catherine..."

"I'm not talking to you, Grissom," she huffed, pulling her discman and headphones out of her backpack. "If you've got something to say, say it to the windshield."

His mouth dropped slightly as if to retort, then... upon seeing the anger in her tightly set jaw, he closed his mouth sadly. He then watched as she pulled her headphones on and turned away from him, before his eyes flitted to the windshield, a whisper escaping his lips. "I'm sorry..."

The rest of the hour was spent uncomfortably... Grissom attempting to both drive and deal with the belligerent CSIs in the backseat, while Catherine remained deliberately oblivious to it all... staring out the window while music blared in her headphones.

"Ewww, Greg! Don't put that in your mouth!" Sara whined.

"What? I blew it off first!"

"Grissom!" she whined in a tattle-tale tone.

"I don't even wanna know," he grumbled back, shaking his head. A moment of silence passed briefly... aside from the smacking noise Sara's hand made upon coming into contact with the back of Greg's head, then...

"Dude! I said keep your hands on YOUR SIDE!"

"What is the matter with you? I am keeping my hands on my side!"

"Then whose hands are they?" Warrick asked.

Greg burst into peals of laughter, and then yelped as Sara slapped him upside the head again. "Abuse!" he cried. "ABUSE!"

"Greg," Grissom warned, his eyes still occasionally checking on Catherine.

"They started it!" he accused, pointing at Nick and Warrick.

"How in the hell did you work that out?" Warrick asked, wrinkling his forehead in confusion.

"Keep your hands on your own side," Greg mimicked.

"I swear I'll punch you in a minute," Nick warned him.

"Come and get me," he taunted, sticking his tongue out childishly.

The minute Catherine heard the scuffle and felt her seat being kicked, she let out a long sigh and took off her headphones. "Grissom, pull over."

"Cath..."

"Pull over!" she barked again.

Everyone was silent. Catherine was pissed, and they were terrified. "Cath, we promise we'll be good," Greg said, voice shaking slightly.

She turned to face them. "If I hear one more word out of any of you before we get to the next stop, I will not be responsible for my actions. Understand?"

"Why does she get to be boss..." Sara muttered.

Greg elbowed her. "Shh! You heard what she said!"

Grissom glanced at Catherine and their gazes locked. He grinned at her. After a moment, she grinned back.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Play-Land and Peace 

* * *

When the Denali finally pulled into the parking lot at McDonald's, Greg let out a screech, diving for the door... neglecting to remember that Sara was currently blocking his exit. "GET OFF ME!" Sara cried.

Greg finally managed to scramble over the top of Sara and he disappeared, making his way for the Play-Land inside the restaurant. Sara's eyes followed the blur of color that was their lab tech and she slowly shook her head. "Jesus," she whispered under her breath. She glanced to the others. "Whose idea was it to give him Pixie Stix at our last stop, anyway?"

All eyes soon found their way to Nick, and he looked warily at each one of them, shrugging innocently. "What? I didn't think it'd get him THAT riled up!"

Sara rolled her eyes. "I call not sitting next to him on the next leg of the trip." She turned to Catherine and Grissom, who were each just climbing out of the SUV. "How about I sit up front?"

"Sorry, that's Catherine's domain," Grissom apologized.

Catherine smirked. "CSI seniority, baby."

"I'm starving," Warrick interjected, approaching them. "Let's eat."

Sara stalled. "I can't eat in there."

The rest of the CSI's turned to look at her. "Why not?" Grissom asked.

"Grissom, how many times do I have to tell you... I'm a vegetarian!"

He furrowed his brow. "You're a vegetarian?"

"Don't worry, Sair," Warrick chided her. "They have vegetarian burgers."

She narrowed her eyes. "They do?"

"Sure they do," Nick added in his Texan drawl. "Where have you been?"

"In her cave," Catherine muttered.

"Behave," Grissom whispered in her ear, taking her by the elbow and leading her inside.

Upon entering McDonald's, they immediately spotted Greg in Play-Land, hard at work in the ball pit grabbing the colorful plastic balls and flinging them in every direction, laughing as they hit the nets. Catherine shook her head. "Doesn't take much to amuse him, does it?" she quipped, leaning close to the glass to watch him.

When he threw himself against the glass, Catherine jumped back, startled. Greg tried to conceal his grin, before pressing his hands, nose, cheeks, and open mouth to the glass... blowing air against it, puffing his cheeks out as he did so.

Grissom grimaced, yelling through the window, "Greg, take your mouth off the glass! It's full of germs!"

A soft hand grasped his arm, squeezing just above the crook of his elbow, a pair of lips reaching his ear. "Gil, let him have fun," Catherine whispered, giving him a look as she pulled away.

As the other CSI's just shrugged off Greg's antics and departed to place their orders, both Grissom and Catherine turned their eyes back to Greg, who was flopping around in the ball pit in a manic state... and Catherine chuckled, gesturing to him. "I mean, look how happy he is."

Grissom rolled his eyes, placing a hand to the small of her back as he led her toward the registers. "Couldn't we just give him some catnip, or a ball of yarn or something?"

She smirked, reaching back to lightly smack his chest with the back of her hand... until his left hand grasped hers, holding it to his chest. Cobalt met azure, and a battle raged.

The spell was broken all-too-soon, however, by yet another whine escaping Sara's lips several feet away. "Niiick, they do NOT have vegetarian burgers!"

Grissom and Catherine abruptly broke away from one another at being dumped back to reality, and stepped up to begin perusing the menu board, shooting tense looks at each other the entire time.

Nick, meanwhile, chuckled and held up his hands good-naturedly in an attempt to calm the irate brunette. "Ease up, Sara," he drawled, and jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the menu board. "They've got salads, at least. Your kind DO eat those, right?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "My KIND?"

"Yeah," Warrick spoke up, standing to Nick's other side. "Herbivores."

"Leaf-eaters," Nick chimed in, wearing a smug ear-to-ear grin.

Sara smacked his arm. "You're such a jackass."

A scuffle began, and Nick bumped into Warrick in the process, only to be shoved away by him a second later. "Dude!" Warrick exclaimed.

"What?" Nick spat back, still struggling against Sara, who was attempting to smack him anywhere she could. "And don't even TELL me my foot left 'my side'!"

"Oh, Christ," Catherine muttered under her breath, drawing Grissom's attention.

He raised an eyebrow, meeting her eyes questioningly. "What?"

She nodded toward the younger CSI's. "They're at it again," she sighed simply, pursing her lips.

He rolled his eyes. "Great. Think we can slip away?" he quipped.

She grinned. "Actually, I do." She grabbed his hand, subtly gesturing toward the door with a jerk of her head.

They ducked out as discreetly as possible, each cursing when the bell over the door signaled their exit... but sighing in relief upon noting none of the others seemed to notice, or care about, their sudden disappearance.

Once outside, Grissom jogged a few steps to catch up with Catherine's long strides, swinging their clasped hands. "Where are we going?" he asked, then begged desperately, "Please tell me we are leaving them here."

She laughed. "As tempting as that sounds, you know we can't. I mean..." She grinned at him. "They're BOUND to notice eventually."

"So again that begs the question... where are we going?"

She nodded across the street. "There's a gas station just across the highway. We can grab lunch there... and hopefully TRY to sneak in a little peace and quiet for once."

He smiled at the comment, his gaze drifting to their clasped hands. For some reason, whenever he and Catherine made physical contact, be it just through a simple touch, or grabbing each other's hands, it never felt awkward. In fact, it always felt... what? Right, he mused. It felt right.

After grabbing a hot dog each and some snacks, the pair headed back to the Denali, Catherine jumping up to sit on the hood while Grissom remained standing, a comfortable silence falling over them as they ate. "Think they noticed yet?" he murmured, gaze drifting to the interior of McDonald's... his eyes straining to find their subordinates.

She smirked. "Probably not. They were a little busy."

Once both had finished eating, Grissom outstretched a hand to take Catherine's hot dog wrapper and empty chip bag, depositing them in a nearby garbage can before returning to her. "So... peace and quiet, huh?" he asked, boldly stepping into the space between her legs while her feet rested on the front fender... her denim shorts riding up a few inches as she scooted closer to him.

"Yeah..." she murmured, her fingers flitting up to the collar of his polo shirt, flipping it up before straightening it and smoothing it back down... her eyes watching her hands. "We can hope for some, at least."

He smiled lovingly as he watched her, loving the expression of concentration her face held while she putzed with his collar. "I think we're experiencing that right now," he whispered. 

She looked up to meet his eyes, her lips slowly spreading into a smile of agreement. After another moment of silence passed between them--Catherine's eyes flitting back to his collar, her fingertips still moving around near his neck--he spoke. "Cath... I want to apologize for earlier."

"Huh?"

He smiled ruefully, hoping the mention of it wouldn't stir her anger again. "My insensitive comment."

"Oh..." She smiled. "Don't worry about it, Gil. It's not a big deal."

"It is to me," he insisted. "I don't want my best friend thinking I'm an insensitive jerk."

She chuckled. "I don't, Gil. At all. I've known you for nearly twenty years, and not once have I ever truly thought you were insensitive. You've got to be the most sensitive, sweet, caring man I've ever been fortunate enough to come in contact with." 

He smiled. "That's sweet of you to say, Cath," he murmured, placing his hand on the outside of her left knee, rubbing softly.

"I mean it," she whispered, and, on an impulse, leaned in to kiss his cheek... dangerously close to the corner of his mouth.

A jolt of electricity rippled through each of their bodies, and time suspended for a moment, Catherine's lips suspending briefly by the corner of his mouth. She pulled back slightly, her eyes diving beneath his. There was a question in his eyes... one she knew she'd answer in the affirmative, and she smiled as a subtle acquiesce, her heart skipping a beat as he stepped further into the 'V' of her legs, his right hand sliding a few more inches up her bare thigh while his left hand found her cheek.

Her breathing grew ragged in anticipation, and her eyes met his before drifting to his lips, feeling his hand on her face drawing her closer. Their staccato breaths mingled, became one, and a frenzy of butterflies swarmed Catherine's stomach as their lips began to brush...

"Dammit, NO! I said I am NOT sitting next to him again!" Sara exclaimed, stomping out of McDonald's with Nick and Warrick on her heels... Greg trailing several feet behind.

Grissom felt Catherine's hands on his chest, pushing him away, as she jumped down from the car, turning away as a blush flared through her cheeks. Frustrated and angered at not being able to finish what he'd started with Catherine, Grissom's cheeks flared beet red, and he shook his head at his younger CSI's. "Oh, for God sakes!" he cried, rounding on the four of them. "Get in the car! All of you! Catherine and I will be right back." With a jerk, he grabbed Catherine's hand, tugging her behind him.

"Gil!" she exclaimed, eyes wide as she followed him. "What has gotten into you? They're all waiting for us..."

Grissom pulled her close, whispering in her ear, "I am not leaving this station before I kiss you."

Catherine felt tingles run throughout her body at his words. "Well... alright, then."

They rounded the corner of the parking lot, Grissom making sure that no one was around. He held Catherine against the wall, his arms around her waist. There was a predatory look in his eye, making her shiver involuntarily. "You ready?" he asked, fingers caressing her hips.

Catherine nodded, her eyes wide and chest heaving. He leaned in, his lips ready to devour hers. Her hands traveled up his chest, encircling his neck... ready for the ultimate contact.

"Grissom! Catherine! Greg's commandeered the Denali and wants to drive the rest of the way!" Sara exclaimed, stomping around the corner.

Catherine let out an exasperated cry. "Why the hell can't we just have five freakin' minutes in peace?" 

Sara looked taken aback as she glanced between the senior CSI's, who were both breathing heavily. Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to speak... then shut it again. Taking a deep breath, she tried again, weakly. "I thought you might want to know."

"We'll be there in a minute, Sara," Grissom promised, and watched as she rounded the corner, heading out of sight.

Catherine began to move from the wall, ready to follow Sara, but Grissom's forceful hands on her hips pushed her back. "Gil... Sara and the others--"

"Can wait," he growled. "I told you before, I am not leaving here until I kiss you."

"Greg's got the car," she reminded him, her eyes watching him carefully.

"He can drive it into Lake Mead for all I care." He made his next comment slowly, strongly, emphasizing each word. "I am going to kiss you before we leave."

Catherine smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck once more. "Then get on with it, Bugman."

Grissom smiled back and leaned in, their eyes staying locked until the final moment when their lips touched. They stayed in that position for a few moments... lips just gently pressed together. Catherine then moaned into the kiss as Grissom pressed himself against her, sucking on her lower lip.

She whimpered into his mouth as they pushed closer to one another, and her mouth opened to him, more than ready to deepen the kiss...

"Grissom! Greg's doing donuts in the parking lot!" Warrick cried, rounding the corner.

The couple pulled away, breathing heavily... eyes wide. "I'm sorry, what?" Grissom asked in a disconcertingly calm voice... about ready to explode.

"Greg's doing donuts in the parking lot," Warrick repeated, his eyes traveling from one to the other.

Grissom let out a groan of exasperation and stomped off around the corner. Catherine smiled guiltily at Warrick, who grinned back.

"GREG SANDERS!" came the bellowing from the parking lot.

Catherine's eyes widened. "Gil's gonna kill him!" she exclaimed, rounding the corner.

When they reached the now stopped car, Greg was sitting in the back seat next to Sara. Both were silent, as was Nick in the other seat. "What happened?" Warrick asked.

"Nothing. We're continuing on our journey," Grissom told him firmly.

Catherine sent him a shy smile, which he returned, and hoisted herself into the front seat next to him. Grissom started the car and steered it out of the parking lot, everyone silent. While the younger CSI's were quiet due to a severe tongue lashing from their supervisor, he and Catherine shared a different kind of silence... thinking of moments lost and moments gained.

Once they were safely on the road, Grissom glanced down to the gearshift, where he found Catherine's hand lingering. He subtly dropped his hand down to join hers, fingers lacing together as he held it. They met each other's eyes, sharing a soft smile... content to stay that way for the rest of the journey.

An hour later, Sara cried out in pain. Grissom gave her a stern look in the rear-view mirror. "I'm sorry!" she apologized, "But Greg is doing some kind of aerobics with his discman and comic book! He's gonna take an eye out!"

"HEY!" Nick cried, flinching as he got bashed on the head with the spine of Greg's comic book.

Catherine turned to Grissom and rolled her eyes... then, putting on her best scathing look, she whirled around, sending daggers through her eyes to Greg. The rest of the team froze, knowing that look. Greg, however, was oblivious, bopping along to his discman and flipping the pages of his comic book. 

"Oh, Jesus," Catherine growled. Reluctantly letting go of Grissom's hand... something that Greg would pay dearly for later... she reached over and wrenched the headphones away. 

"Hey!" Greg cried indignantly, but stiffened when he saw Catherine glaring at him.

"You'll get them back when you learn to control yourself," she informed him authoritatively, turning back around in her seat and shoving the headphones in the glove box. She turned her head and locked eyes with Grissom, who was trying to stifle a grin. Now content with her world again, she slipped her hand down and laced her fingers with his, resting her head on the back of her seat.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3/?: Catherine's Domain

* * *

As the Denali pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, Catherine and Grissom reluctantly dropped their clasped hands... exchanging a smile as they each unbuckled their belts and climbed down from their seats, turning to watch the kids do the same.

"Cath..." Greg whined. "Can I have my stuff back now?"

She smiled serenely, her ire having been calmed by the mere touch of Grissom's hand in hers. "Only if you promise to behave yourself," she warned him while handing over the confiscated discman and headphones.

He smiled winningly, pantomiming crossing his heart. "I promise!" he exclaimed, then greedily snatched the yearned-for items out of her hands.

"So..." Warrick spoke up, unloading his stuff from the back. "Who gets the unfortunate privilege of rooming with good 'ole Greggo?"

"Hey," Greg pouted.

Warrick chuckled, slapping him on the back. "Sorry, man."

Still pouting, he muttered, "Well... I can't pretend that didn't hurt." Then, after a moment, he burst into a grin, unable to stop himself from doing so.

"So?" Warrick asked once again, "Who's it gonna be?"

Four exclamations of "Not it!" came at split-second intervals, leaving Warrick the odd-man-out. He cursed under his breath, then turned to Greg with a forced smile on his face. "Looks like I'm the lucky winner."

"Great!" he exclaimed. "I'll share my Pixie Stix!"

"Oh, now there's something we'd all love to see..." Sara surmised. "Warrick on a sugar high."

While Nick smirked at this and Warrick glared, the rest of the team turned to inspect their overnight lodging. Catherine grimaced. "Not exactly a five-star, is it?" she commented, wrinkling her nose.

Grissom turned to smile at her... lovingly at first, then, upon recalling who they were in the company of, he disguised it as an amused grin. "Well, Cath, they can't exactly put a Plaza this close to a body farm, now can they?"

The hotel they'd reserved rooms in wasn't much of a hotel at all. The run-down, one-level lodging establishment almost appeared to be completely abandoned... one light at the end of the long building serving as their indication that life was, indeed, still present. The hotel was a dull red, with shoddy-looking gray-and-black shingles covering the roof. The windows were bordered with white-washed wood, and the only source of food on the premises came from the pop machine on one end... and the vending machine on the other.

"Cozy," Sara muttered, making a face identical to Catherine's. "What do you suppose the rooms actually look like?"

"I dunno," Nick sighed, shaking his head. "But if the exterior is any indication, I'd say they aren't gonna be in the best condition."

Grissom smirked at his younger CSI's. "Just be thankful you all have your ALS with you."

"So..." Sara murmured after a moment had passed. "Who's rooming with who, now? I know Warrick's stuck with Greg..." after ignoring another pouty 'Hey' from Greg, she continued... "But who's rooming together out of the rest of us?"

"Bet I know who she wants to room with," Greg whispered to Warrick, both men sharing a smirk at Sara's blatant lusting over their supervisor.

Catherine smirked, overhearing Greg's comment, and watched Sara closely... her ire bubbling up once more as she watched the brunette's eyes flit inconspicuously to Grissom. "I'll be rooming with Grissom," Catherine spoke up quickly.

When Sara's mouth dropped indignantly, Nick, Warrick and Greg all traded smirks while Grissom smiled politely to placate the aggravated brunette... taking a step closer to Catherine. "I'm sorry, Sara," he began to apologize, "But--"

"CSI seniority again?" she snipped, shooting daggers at Catherine, who merely smiled angelically in return.

"Nope... just Catherine's domain," Greg quipped in a nearly inaudible whisper.

Either not hearing Greg's comment or choosing to ignore it, Grissom replied, "No," more sternly now after witnessing the look Sara laid upon the woman he cared so deeply for. "More of a comfort thing. I'd be more comfortable with Catherine than I would be with you," he stated simply, then turned... smiling at Catherine, and bent to pick up her bags for her, heading for the hotel office.

Catherine shrugged innocently, sending a saccharin-sweet smile at Sara, before tossing her hair and flouncing into the office after Grissom. Nick chuckled, nudging Sara. "Aww, sorry your little plan didn't work out for ya, Sair," he drawled, his sable eyes sparkling mischievously. "But hey, look on the bright side... you get to room with me!"

"God help me," she groaned, then... after a moment of contemplating what had just occurred, she rounded on the guys, startling them a bit. "Why is he more comfortable with Catherine than he is with me?" she questioned shrilly. "I've known Grissom for like ten years."

"Yeah," Greg replied, "But he's known Catherine for like twenty years." He chuckled, grinning a Cheshire grin at the irate brunette. "And besides, Catherine wouldn't try to jump his bones every second of the night."

"Well, but if she did," Warrick chimed in, "I highly doubt he'd complain."

Sara glared at each of them. "You guys suck," she muttered childishly.

"No," Nick laughed, "You just don't wanna see the obvious. Have you not seen how they've been around each other this entire trip?"

"And let's not forget what you and I both walked in on, Sara," Warrick reminded her.

Nick and Greg's heads snapped to look at both of them. "What?"

"That was nothing," she snipped, though her facial expression gave away her knowledge of what had really been going on.

"Well... maybe what you saw was nothing, but I sure as hell saw something."

"What?" Greg asked excitedly. "What did you see?"

"Well... after Sara came back from tattling on you, Greggo, and you started doing donuts in the parking lot... I went to find Grissom and Catherine. When I found them, he had her pressed against the side of a building, his arms around her. Her arms were around his neck, and I'm almost positive I saw them pulling away from a kiss."

"Whatever," Sara grumbled, "I'm not listening to this anymore. I'm gonna go find Grissom and get our room keys."

* * *

Grissom and Catherine stood slightly to the side of the front desk, filling out cards to check everyone into their rooms. Every so often they looked up from the cards and sent each other small smiles. When they'd finished filling them out, they handed them back to the clerk for processing. Catherine took this opportunity to wander over to the corner and lean against the wall, watching Grissom carefully. When she caught his eye, she smirked and crooked a finger at him.

After checking that the clerk was occupied, Grissom made his way over to her, his hands resting on her hips. "Something I can help you with?"

She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Well, I was thinking, we've got some spare time right now... how about we put it to good use?"

He grinned at her comment, and her arms tugged him closer. Their lips crashed together, their bodies aching for each other, wanting to get closer.

"Hey, are you guys done yet?" Sara asked, stomping in. Her eyes surveyed the sight she had walked in on. Grissom's hands were straying up Catherine's shirt, and Catherine's hands rested on the waistband of Grissom's pants. This had definitely been a kissing session she had walked in on... that conjecture proven when Catherine wiped her lipstick off the corner of Grissom's mouth.

"Your keys are ready," the clerk drawled.

Catherine straightened her shirt and sauntered over, taking the keys. Walking back to Sara, she smiled sweetly, handing her one. "Here y'go, Sara."

She stared open-mouthed at the couple, unsure if her body was even responding to her brain at the moment.

"You know what... on second thought..." Catherine took all but one key from Grissom's hand and deposited them with Sara. "You wouldn't mind giving these to the rest of the guys, would you? Grissom and I have some things to discuss."

Sara's mouth grew wider, if that were even possible, as Catherine grabbed Grissom's hand, and he gave Sara a crooked smile. "Oh, better keep the mouth closed," the clerk suggested to Sara. "Being near the body farm, we get a few flies around here. Wouldn't want to swallow one."

Sara was sure she heard peals of laughter from Grissom and Catherine as they left for their room.

* * *

Catherine kicked the door shut with her foot, not noticing, or caring, that it didn't shut completely. Right now, her lips were fused to Grissom's, and all she cared about was other body parts being fused to his. "God, I want you," she moaned, as he started trailing kisses down her neck.

"I want you too," he answered, walking them backwards toward the bed.

"I've wanted you since that first kiss," Catherine confessed, her eyes watching his as he lowered her to the bed.

"I've wanted you since I first met you," he murmured.

Her eyes widened at the comment, but she quickly decided it was something that could be explored later. For now, she just needed him desperately. Grissom kissed her deeply again and Catherine moaned, pulling his body closer to hers. Her hands trailed underneath his shirt, finally starting to undo the buttons. Grissom, meanwhile, was quite content to let his hands wander beneath her shirt.

They were so engrossed in touching and tasting, that they didn't hear Greg singing "99 Bottles Of Beer On The Wall" as he walked down the hall, followed by a curse from Warrick and slap upside the head from Nick. "Here we are," Nick announced, as the three men approached the door.

Greg pushed the door open, and all three let out various sounds and exclamations of disgust. "We do NOT need to see that!" Greg cried, turning his face away.

Catherine let out a yelp at the intrusion and pushed Grissom away, quickly doing up the few loose buttons on her shirt. "What the hell are you guys doing in here?"

"Turn around!" Grissom ordered them.

Nick and Warrick obediently turned on their heels, not wanting to see anymore of this than they had to. Greg, on the other hand, was quite interested in seeing Catherine with her shirt unbuttoned, but Warrick and Nick's firm grasp on his shoulders turned him around, stopping him from sneaking a peek.

When they'd made sure each looked presentable once more, Grissom stood up. "What is it, then?"

"We had one of your keys," Nick replied. Still too embarrassed to turn around, he handed the key over his shoulder to Grissom.

"You know, you guys, you can turn around now," Catherine told them, watching them, amused, from her vantagepoint on the bed.

"If it's all the same, we'll stay facing this way," Warrick replied quickly.

"As a matter of fact, we were just leaving," Nick said. "Right guys?"

"Absolutely," Warrick agreed.

"Or we could stay..." Greg suggested, a little too innocently.

"We're going," Nick told him firmly.

"But Sara's being scary!"

"What do you care?" he replied. "You're not the one stuck rooming with her!"

"Alright, that's it," Grissom barked. "Everyone out! Now!"

"Sheesh. You don't have to be so pushy," Greg muttered, as Nick and Warrick pushed him out the door. He spun back around quickly before they could catch him... "Don't forget... we get to speak to dead people in two hours!" he called, before Nick and Warrick dragged him off, promptly shutting the door.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4/?: Pillow Talk and Sweet Release

Rating: This is the R version. As always, the Supervisor version can be found at my site.

* * *

"So..." Catherine sighed. "So--"

"So the moment has been officially ruined?" Grissom suggested, quirking an eyebrow.

She giggled, grasping his shirt and pulling him close. "Well... not quite," she whispered, and brushed her lips softly to his, humming against them when he wrapped his arms around her and laid her down on the bed.

His touches were like feathers, his kisses like drops of warm rain. Catherine was in heaven for sure, and she never wanted to leave. When his lips moved to her neck, she sighed. "Your lips are so soft..."

She felt him smiling against her neck. "I use Chapstick," he quipped.

She giggled, pulling away slightly as she shook her head in amazement. "And just when I thought I knew everything about you..."

He merely smiled, and pressed his lips to hers gently before pulling away, flopping down next to her on the bed... the momentum bouncing her a few inches. She turned on her side to face him, propping her head up in her palm, and he soon mirrored this position, gliding his free hand down her obvious curves to rest on her hip. "So, Gil..." she murmured.

"Hmm?"

"Did you mean what you said, earlier?"

His cobalt eyes met her azure hues, and his forehead wrinkled questioningly. "What?"

The memory of his words sent a shiver down her spine, and subsequently caused her voice to drop to a whisper. "That you've wanted me since you first met me..."

His lips slowly spread into a smile. "Of course."

"I never knew..."

He nodded slowly. "I know. Because I never told you."

She furrowed her brow, her hand finding his cheek as her forehead wrinkled in sadness... the sparkle in her eyes dulling slightly. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

He shrugged lethargically, his eyes roaming her form as he gathered his thoughts. "Lots of reasons," he finally replied cryptically.

She smiled halfway. "Do I get to hear any of them?"

He chuckled. "If you must..." he sighed in mock-exasperation, then paused for a moment. "Well, number one... when I first met you, you were with Eddie."

She shook her head. "But you've said so many times that you always knew Eddie was wrong for me, so why didn't you say anything?"

Another shrug, then, "You seemed happy. Well... sometimes you didn't, but you seemed determined to make it last."

She closed her eyes slowly... sadly, and shook her head. "I should've said something then, I guess, huh?" she questioned in a whisper.

"What do you mean?"

The left corner of her lips tugged upward in a half smirk, her fingertips tracing the contours of his face. "Gil, I've always had a thing for you. Since the moment you walked into the club all those years ago, and you stared straight at my eyes rather than my chest." She grinned. "I was hooked."

"I'd never focus just on your chest, Catherine. Even when we first met, I had the utmost respect for you, and for your body."

"Yeah, I realized that. I should've dropped Eddie right then and there, and gone for you." She shrugged. "I just didn't really think I was your type, so I let it be."

"Not my type?!" he balked, chuckling. "You're extremely intelligent, very kind and caring, and devastatingly sexy, to boot. How could you not be my type?"

She giggled. "I was a stripper. I figured a girl like that would be beneath your standards."

He shook his head. "But I never thought of you as a stripper. Or an exotic dancer. You were just Catherine." He chuckled. "I always thought someone like me was beneath your standards."

"What? Sexy? Brilliant? Dedicated? Sweet?"

"You forgot 'science geek'..."

She laughed, pressing a loud kiss to his lips. "Gil, I've never once thought of you as a 'science geek.' Muck like you've never thought of me as a stripper. I think right from the get-go we both cared too much about each other to stereotype."

"It was strange, with you, though," he murmured.

"How so?"

He shrugged. "Well... I've never been one to believe in love at first sight, but... the first moment you and I locked eyes, I fell in love with you."

"You were in love with me?" she whispered, raising a hand to her heart in a futile attempt to calm its wild palpitations.

"Of course," he smiled into her eyes. "But not in the past tense, Cath. I am in love with you."

"I'm in love with you too, Gil..." she murmured, drawing his body over hers as she laid back on the bed. "So very much."

Their lips came together in a mutual admission of a shared love, their contented sighs mingling together while their hands moved once more to caress and fondle. Grissom's lips left hers to move to her neck, kissing down the soft, creamy skin while his hands resumed their earlier task of unbuttoning her shirt... planting a kiss to each patch of skin as it was exposed. Catherine moaned and arched off the bed to meet his lips... leaning back on her hands as his mouth continued moving downward.

"Tell me when to stop, Catherine..." he murmured, licking a tiny circle around her belly button, before dipping his tongue in and out of it repeatedly.

Raking a hand through his hair, she fell back against the pillows and moaned, "Don't stop."

He smiled, licking her belly button once more before dragging his tongue down the trail of short, fine, light-blond hair that led to the waistband of her denim shorts. He paused there, glancing up to meet her eyes... making sure it was what she wanted. When her eyes sparkled their desire back at him, he knew... and slowly unbuttoned her shorts. After dragging the zipper down, he moved to divest her of the constricting article of clothing, looking up to meet her eyes once more when he heard her gasp. "You okay?" he asked softly, tone filled with concern.

Her voice came out shaky... a crippled whisper. "Yes... I'm more than okay. Please, Gil, don't ever stop."

Smiling sexily into her lust-filled eyes, his voice dropped to a husky timbre. "Your wish is my command."

She exhaled forcefully at his highly arousing comment, and sank back against the pillows once more while his hands continued removing her shorts... caressing her legs as he did so. He turned over his shoulder only briefly as he flung her shorts, watching where they landed before turning back to her. Upon catching sight of the red lace thong she was wearing, his breath left him in a rush. "Oh God..."

Catherine smirked, noting that the 'dopey look' seemed to have taken over his face. "Don't forget to breathe, Gil," she reminded him playfully.

Snapping back to reality, he glared facetiously and wagged his finger at her. "Just for that, y'know what?"

But she never had time to reply, for he whipped the thong off in one fluid motion and dipped his head between her legs, flicking his tongue against her center. She gasped loudly, her back arching completely off the bed... "Oh God, GIL!" before slamming back down again.

"Sshh, sweetheart," he whispered, blowing cool air over her center. "We don't want the kids to think I'm doing something horrible to you, now do we?" He flicked his tongue against her tiny bundle of nerves and whistled briefly, the sensation giving her a full body jerk.

"Oh God, not horrible, so good," she whimpered, bucking against him. "So g--FUCK!" she cried out when two fingers entered her, pumping in and out at a steady pace while his tongue continued its torturous ministrations.

"Sshhh..." he whispered again, the cool air taking her arousal to even greater heights before he flicked his tongue across her again. "The kids..."

"I don't care," she growled.

Grissom teased her by bringing her to the edge several times, then slowing his fingers and the movement of his tongue... bringing her down from the precipice before picking up speed again. Her moans and whimpers begged him... pleaded with him to give her release, and finally... he obliged. He gave one more pump of his long, nimble fingers, and one last flick of the tongue before she cried out his name, her body arching off the bed while she tensed and shuddered, stars bursting behind her closed eyelids.

"Oh wow, Gil..." she whispered as her hips slowly sank back onto the mattress. She turned slightly on her side, smiling as he crawled cat-like up to the pillows, leaning in to nibble on her neck.

She giggled and pressed her hands to his chest, pushing him away slightly so she could gaze into his eyes. "Gil, that was amazing..."

He kissed her softly, smiling a mile wide. "I'm glad you liked it."

Her tone of voice quickly changed. "But now, however..." she murmured, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and kissing down his chest. "I think it's time for me to exact a little revenge."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

INTERRUPTIONS

Authors: Anne and Caroline

Chapter 5/?: Body Farm Decorum

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers/Disclaimer/Summary: See ch. 1.

* * *

"We're going to a body farm!" Greg exclaimed, bouncing slightly in his seat while Grissom continued down the dirt road.

"Please tell me we'll be there soon," Warrick groaned.

Greg's curious voice piped up once more. "What's a body farm like?"

"Ask Catherine, she's been to one," Sara grumbled, obviously crabby as she sat with her elbow propped on the windowsill, her forehead in her hand. She turned upon feeling a hand gently clasp her shoulder, kneading tenderly, and she met Nick's supportive smile. She sighed in response and nodded to his silent statement, and patted his hand before it slid off her shoulder.

"Catherine, what's a body farm like?" Greg continued.

"Quiet," she replied.

"Well, duh," Greg chuckled. "It's a body farm. I'm sure not too many of its inabitants would be very talkative."

"I meant you, Greg," she sighed. "Be quiet, okay?"

"Now that would be quite a feat," Grissom muttered, thoroughly unhappy that his time with Catherine had been cut short.

Nick's face reddened, suddenly realizing why his supervisor was so cranky. When Warrick caught his eyes and raised an eyebrow in question, Nick looked away, staring out the window.

"Is this it? Is this it?" Greg asked excitedly as Grissom pulled up to a small run-down building.

Grissom rolled his eyes. "No Greg, I decided to bring you to Disneyland instead," he growled.

Catherine sent him a questioning look, resting a hand on his arm during the commotion of the kids getting out of the car. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

He nodded, sending her a reassuring, albeit small, smile. "I will be, later. When I can get you back to our room."

She shivered, desire suddenly rattling her body. She really wanted to get back to that room, as soon as possible.

Warrick, having been the unlucky one sent back to see if Grissom and Catherine would be joining them anytime soon... caught the tail-end of the conversation, and quickly turned on his heel. "Didn't need to hear that," he mumbled.

"I wish I could kiss you," Grissom whispered, smiling hopefully at Catherine.

She grinned. "If we don't get out of the car soon, the kids are going to think we've become additions to the farm."

He nodded, knowing she was right, and contented himself with kissing her hand. "Let's go."

"There are DEAD people here!" Greg cried, pointing at a few bodies off in the distance as he saw Grissom and Catherine approaching.

"Oh boy," Catherine groaned. "This is gonna be one hell of a long evening."

"Did you think Grissom was serious about Disneyland?" Sara questioned the lab tech.

He glared at her. "Just because you didn't get--"

His voice was muffled as Nick clamped a hand over his mouth, smiling apologetically at his supervisor and the strawberry-blonde. "Don't mind him. I think he ate some Pixie Stix before we left."

Catherine raised an eyebrow at this, but eventually shrugged it off and turned to Grissom. "Shall we?"

He nodded, pulling the door open for the body farm, gesturing for them to enter. "We shall."

"Hello, there! You must be the CSI's from Vegas," a short dumpy man greeted them... looking quite unkempt in ripped jeans and a black tee-shirt, upon which a stupid joke was printed: 'City Morgue: You Stab 'Em, We Slab 'Em.' Nick took one look at the tee-shirt and groaned.

"We just need you to sign everybody in, and you can get started," another dumpy man spoke up, stepping into the room. This man was tall, with greasy, jet-black hair... and was also wearing a tee-shirt with yet another stupid joke imprinted on it: 'City Mortuary: You Kill 'Em, We Fill 'Em.' Nick emitted another groan.

After signing everybody in, Grissom led his team out onto the farm, everyone simultaneously grimacing at the stench of rotting flesh. Catherine, recovering from the smell, pointed out a cadaver hanging from a tree. "Hey! Look, Gil, it's our old friend Slim!"

Grissom raised an eyebrow and followed her gaze. "Catherine, if that was the same Slim that you and I met two years ago, then he may have proved himself a scientific anomaly."

She sent him a dirty look. "When I die, I'm deliberately going to hang around just to prove you wrong."

Sara smirked, loving it when Catherine got shown up. Grissom glanced at the strawberry-blonde with a soft smile. "You can't. Because I demand to go first." He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I couldn't live without you."

He hadn't meant for anyone but Catherine to hear his last line, but Sara was standing close enough to Grissom to've been able to. Her mouth dropped open in surprise... and that was when the trouble started. As Sara continued standing there, slack-jawed, a fly decided to investigate.

The group was slowly moving along; Catherine and Grissom in the lead, trying desperately not to touch each other; Nick and Warrick behind them, chatting about football; and Greg bringing up the rear, oohing and aahing at everything as if seeing the cadavers was as exciting as watching the Fourth of July fireworks. That was when Sara started choking.

"Oh my God!" Nick cried, rushing to her side. "Sara, are you okay?"

"Of course she's not okay, you moron, she's choking!" Warrick exclaimed.

"And of course YOU would know, right? Mr. Smartass?" Nick growled, and the two then began arguing.

Catherine and Grissom still seemed to be lost in their own little world and had gone on ahead, not noticing the commotion behind them.

"I know the Heimlich! I know the Heimlich!" Greg cried, racing up to Sara. "Don't worry! I'll save you!"

Sara shook her head vehemently, but a tad too late as Greg was behind her, arms around her waist. Unfortunately, he pulled so hard that he fell over, Sara falling on top of him. Greg's surprised exclamation and Sara's string of curses was what finally gained the senior CSIs' attention, and they slowly turned around.

"Greg, Sara, stop acting like children. We're here to work," Grissom berated them.

Catherine, in response, rolled her eyes at the 'kids', and she and Grissom continued on their way, briefly watching one of the strange, tee-shirt clad gentlemen stroll up to Sara. "Didn't anyone warn you about the flies?"

Sara glared at him. "I swallowed one."

He nodded. "Yeah. You get used to the taste after awhile."

Sara watched him walk away, grimacing, before rounding on Greg. "What the hell were you doing?!"

"I thought you were choking! I was saving you!"

"By pulling me on top of you?"

"Maybe he thought he'd get some," Warrick suggested.

"Hey!" Greg cried. He turned back to Sara. "I was performing the Heimlich, but it kinda backfired."

"Y'think?!" She brushed herself off. "Great. Now I smell like dirt and dead people."

Catherine and Grissom continued walking along the paths, their hands by their sides. Every so often, their fingers would brush, and the couple had to continually stop themselves from holding hands. "Any plans for dinner tonight?" Grissom asked, a bit shyly.

She grinned. "I was thinking room service."

"Sounds perfect to me," he agreed.

Greg suddenly streaked past them on the path, screaming at the top of his lungs. Catherine frowned. "What the hell is going on?" she asked irritatedly as the couple turned around to find Nick, Warrick, and Sara approaching.

"That's a very good question," Grissom agreed, staring sternly at the rest of the CSI's, all of whom were looking somewhat guilty.

"Greg tried to perform the Heimlich on Sara and ended up pulling her to the ground, which got her all dirty," Nick began.

Grissom shook his head, still eyeing the trio warily. "That doesn't explain why Greg was racing down the path, going out of his mind," he replied.

Catherine looked between Nick and Warrick, who were crossing their legs painfully... then over to Sara, who was glowering at the two of them. Catherine put a hand on Grissom's arm. "Uh, yes it does."

"Man, I didn't even know half of those things Sara said she'd do to him were physically possible!" Nick exclaimed, fear laced in his tone.

"Believe me when I say, I'd make them possible," Sara growled.

Warrick raised his eyebrows, edging away slightly. "Oh, we believe you!"

Grissom attempted to look stern, though the very lunacy of their situation was causing a grin to twitch at the corner of his mouth. He cleared his throat. "Sara, you can't just threaten Greg with bodily harm. Now someone has to go and find him."

"I'm not doing it," Catherine murmured, folding her arms.

"No, I wasn't going to make you do it," he assured her.

"Not me!" Nick and Warrick cried in unison.

Sara folded her arms, shaking her head defiantly as Grissom's gaze settled on her. "No. You can't make me."

"You were the one that scared him out there somewhere," he reasoned, gesturing down the path.

"I'm not going alone," she protested.

Grissom shrugged. "Fine. Nick and Warrick can go with you."

"Huh?"

"It'll give you experience not contaminating the bodies, and you can survey them as you go," he suggested, and smiled at his younger CSI's. "Enjoy."

Catherine grinned, partly at the look on Grissom's face, and partly at the look on the rest of their faces, and waved sweetly. "Ta-ta." As she watched the trio disappear glumly down the path, she turned back to Grissom and smiled, glancing at their surroundings as she sighed sarcastically, "So romantic."

"Yes, I definitely think the setting makes for great romantic atmosphere," he wryly agreed.

The two gazed at each other for an extended moment, contemplating a kiss... before turning away amid mutterings of 'no' and 'too weird.' After a moment of silence, Catherine tossed him a sideways glance. "Just one wouldn't be too gross, right?" she asked timidly.

"Probably not," he agreed, glancing in both directions over his shoulder. "After all, no one's around..."

She grinned at this, and with a groan of desire, Grissom pulled her to him, and their lips crashed together. She moaned in response and pulled herself closer, deepening the kiss within seconds. It dragged on for several moments, until they pulled apart to heave much-needed oxygen into their lungs.

"I swear," Grissom whispered, deep and low, "When we get back to the motel, I plan on making love to you until neither of us can move."

A shiver ran through her at his words. "There's nothing I'd like better," she whispered back.

Greg, in the meantime, had happened upon a swamp. A decomposing body took up residence on the other side, but where he stood, everything appeared decent... save for all the mud and grime. He grinned slyly to himself, a very Looney-Tunes plan formulating in his mind... and he grabbed a piece of palm nearby, draping it across a section of the swamp.

Making a quick mental note that Grissom and Catherine were immersed in a discussion partway down the path, he put his plan into action. "Oh, Sara!" he called in a sing-song voice.

Sara appeared seconds later, glaring at him... practically baring her teeth at him. "There you are, you little weasel," she hissed through clenched teeth.

Putting on his best 'little brother' act, he stuck his tongue out at the irate brunette. "Catch me if you can!"

With a growl, Sara charged at him, ready to wring his scrawny little neck... so intent on her focus that she slipped on the piece of palm and landed face-first in the swamp.

The outraged cry that followed reached Catherine and Grissom and, alarmed, the pair raced off toward the source of the yell. Catherine reached the destination first, spotting a furious-looking Sara on the ground, Greg grinning at her side. Concerned that her younger colleague had been injured, she made her way over to Sara, losing her footing and landing on top of her.

Greg burst out laughing at the sight, clutching his stomach and doubling over... until he saw the look on Grissom's face. He glanced to Sara... then, as fear began to grow in the pit of his stomach, he glanced to Catherine.

A simultaneous yell of "GREG SANDERS!" echoed around the body farm. Wildlife scattered and, fearing the worst... Greg Sanders tore off in a blur of color.

Moments later, upon hearing the chaos, Warrick and Nick arrived on the scene... Nick with his hands in his pockets, lips curled in a grin... while Warrick stood with his hands at his sides, his eyebrows up somewhere near his hairline as both men observed the scene in front of them. Catherine. Sara. Covered in mud. Catherine laying atop Sara. "What the HELL did we miss out on?" Warrick chuckled.

"Guys," Nick whined, "If you were planning on mud-wrestling, you could've at least given us some warning." He gestured behind them, in the direction of the Denali. "My camera's all the way back at the motel!"

The two women merely grumbled and attempted to get up. Everytime Catherine went to stand up, however, Sara would try to use her for leverage, which ultimately sent both women back down into the slippery mud. "Sara!" Catherine cried angrily for the hundredth time.

"You can't leave me here!" she exclaimed frantically. "There are weird things in this swamp! Dead things!"

"It's a body farm, for Christ sakes!" Catherine exclaimed. "What do you expect?"

"Actually, not everything is dead," Grissom interjected. "The vegetation is alive. And the bugs."

As Sara let out another wail, Catherine glared up at him. "You are NOT helping," she hissed through gritted teeth.

He tried his best to put on an apologetic smile, "Sorry," but it quickly dissolved into a smirk.

"Come on, Nick," Warrick sighed, indicating Sara.

"Alright, alright," he chuckled.

Both men took one of Sara's arms, standing on either side of her. On Warrick's count of three, they let out a simultaneous grunt and lifted her out, Nick's arms going around her waist to brace her from falling again once she was out. Warrick then nodded toward Catherine, directing his question to Grissom. "Need some help with her?"

"I'm not THAT heavy, thank you very much," Catherine growled.

"Hey!" Sara cried, pouting... still being held against Nick.

Catherine rolled her eyes, sighing, "I didn't mean it like that."

Grissom grinned devilishly at her, extending a hand to her as he told Warrick, "I think I can handle her."

She arched an eyebrow at this comment, and as he winked subtly at her, she grinned and took the proffered hand.

Greg checked his watch, hoping half an hour would be enough time for Sara to have calmed down from his little prank. He crept out of his hiding place, making his way back to the swamp. He narrowed his eyes. The swamp was empty. "Guys?"

He glanced around, finding he was alone. "Sara? Catherine? Warrick?" His voice grew smaller, more fearful. "Nick? G-Grissom?"

Upon still receiving no answer, he gulped and jogged over to where they'd parked the Denali, finding it was gone. "NOOOOOO!"

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

NTERRUPTIONS

Authors: Anne and Caroline

Chapter 6/?: Cleanup

Rating: NC-17

Caroline's Notes: A bit more N/S comes into play here as you'll see, because, well... simply... N/S rocks!

Spoilers/Disclaimer/Summary: See ch. 1.

* * *

"Goddamn son of a--"

"Here we are, Cath," Grissom sighed, humor laced in his tone as he held their motel room door open for her, smirking as she rigidly walked in, arms in front of her... her entire body caked in mud.

When she saw the expression on his face, she glared. "It's not funny, Gil!"

This only caused him to burst out laughing, and when she began whacking him on the shoulder, Nick and Sara paused in the open doorway, on the way to their room. Nick smirked. "Sure you can handle her, boss? Looks like she's kicking your ass."

Grissom rolled his eyes. "I got her, Nick. Don't worry." He nodded toward their room next door. "Go get Sara cleaned up."

Nick nodded in response and dragged Sara away by the elbow, while Sara grumbled over her shoulder, "I'm not a puppy, Grissom!"

Catherine rolled her eyes at this remark. "Then quit making puppy-eyes at your boss," she hissed through her clenched teeth, bending at the waist rigidly to pull her muddy shoes off.

He rolled his eyes at the strawberry-blonde's ire. "She's harmless, Cath," he chided her.

"Yeah? That's what a lot of people say about serial killers too, but that doesn't mean it's an accurate assumption."

He couldn't help but chuckle. "What is the big problem you have with her?"

"She wants you, Gil!" she exclaimed angrily, unsure if she was frustrated with Sara, or the fact that she was covered in mud.

Grissom merely folded his arms across his chest, his voice even and calm. "Well she can't have me."

Catherine rolled her eyes once more, pulling her other mud-encrusted shoe off. "I'm not so sure she's aware of that fact. You might wanna clue her in one of these times."

"I have, on several occasions. If she can't accept it, then that's her problem to deal with. Not ours." He nudged her toward the bathroom. "Now go clean up."

She let loose one more incoherent grumble about Sara before walking stiffly into the bathroom, starting up the shower. Grissom smiled as he watched her, then made his way to the bedside table. "What do you want from room service?" he called over the sound of the shower.

"Turkey club, no--"

"Bacon, I know," he grinned.

Though her back was turned, and the door was half-closed, he felt her smile, and he reached into the drawer in the bedside table, shuffling around in search of the room service menu. After combing through every inch of the drawer, a light-bulb came on in his head. "Hey Cath?"

He gently pushed the bathroom door open, and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him. Catherine stood with her back to him, her muddy body completely bare save for the bra that she was currently unhooking, her hair fanning out around her head as she turned over her shoulder to meet his eyes. "What?"

The words died on his tongue, and he could do nothing but stare at his goddess, eyes feasting on her creamy legs, her toned buttocks, and smooth back. He felt himself twitch in the southern regions, and that was when he finally dragged his eyes back up to hers, shaking his head slightly to ward off the trance he'd slipped into. "Uhh... what did you want to ask, Cath?"

She grinned, still glancing at him over her shoulder. "You were the one that came in here, Gil," she smugly reminded him. "I think it's you that has a question. Were you planning on asking it before my shower gets cold?"

He frowned, his brow creasing as he fought to remember what he'd been about to say before he got a glimpse of Catherine in all her naked, muddy, sexy glory. "Uhh... what the hell DID I come in here for?" he whispered, meaning to question himself, but Catherine caught it nonetheless.

Her grin widened. "Other than to gawk at me and get drool all over your good shirt, I really couldn't tell ya."

After another moment in which he desperately fought to remember his reason for entering the bathroom, Catherine giggled. "Gil, do you mind if I take my shower now? You can always tell me what you needed to tell me when I'm done."

"Oh!" He nodded. "Yeah, sure sure. Sorry." He shook his head one last time before exiting, closing the door partway behind him.

One step back into their room and he halted, a sly grin creeping across his lips. His eyes twitched narrow momentarily, contemplating the idea swimming in his head.

Catherine sighed heavily as she began to scrub herself down, her skin starting to turn red from the force. The mud had gotten caked on thanks to Sara repeatedly pulling her into the pit, and the little devil on her shoulder reminded her of the fact that that big, brunette Amazon was cruisin' for a bruisin'.

She stepped back into the spray of water, letting it soak through her hair, which had also grown muddy in spots. After a good five minutes, she'd successfully rid herself of the mud and grime from the body farm, and she relaxed into her shower... letting the steam soothe her ire.

Just as she began to feel fully relaxed, two hands slipped around her waist from behind, causing her to jump out of her skin, letting out a squeal of surprise. She spun quickly to meet a pair of mischief-laced cobalt hues. "Gil!" she exclaimed, whacking him on the shoulder.

"Ow!" he chuckled, wincing slightly. "Keep that up and I'll call Jim. This can be considered domestic abuse."

She glared playfully. "Oh, get over it."

He grinned, and stuck his tongue out at her briefly before pressing a kiss to her cheek, turning her to face the showerhead before reaching for the soap, lathering his hands. "I remembered what I came into the bathroom for," he whispered, sliding his soapy hands down her back, gliding them over her buttocks before giving them a squeeze.

"Gil!" she giggled, swatting at his hands.

"Sorry, I just couldn't help myself." He pressed a kiss to the back of her head.

She sighed as his hands began moving in small, circular patterns, lathering her back, butt, and thighs. "So, what did you come in here for?"

"Oh! Right. I realized that, considering how small this motel is, and how, uhh... shall we say, run-down, it is... they probably don't offer room service."

"Oh." She jutted her lower lip into a pout.

He leaned around her to grasp her pouted lip, sucking it between his briefly before giving her a light peck, smiling warmly at her. "Although, I do remember seeing some vending machines outside."

"Ahh, Cheetos," Catherine sighed wistfully, sarcasm lacing her tone. "What a wonderfully romantic prelude to sex."

He merely shrugged, grinning that boyish grin at her. "Hey, you never know. Maybe Cheetos are a rare aphrodisiac."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head at him as she turned to face him. "Only in your twisted mind," she muttered, draping her arms over his shoulders.

"Hey, I thought you loved me for my mind!"

She laughed. "I love you for so much more than your mind, Gil. But what about you? I've noticed you're quite fond of my body."

He pressed a light kiss to her lips. "I love you for so much more than your body."

She smiled, then, after the words sunk into each of their brains, they froze... staring into each other's eyes. "Is... that the first time we've said that to each other?" Catherine asked slowly.

Grissom nodded, equally slow. "Yes, I believe it is."

After exchanging another stare, she broke into a grin, her arms snaking further around his shoulders as she pulled him close. "Say it again," she whispered.

He grinned brightly, his voice soft and tender... eyes conveying much more than words could offer. "I love you, Catherine."

Her own eyes reflected the same plethora of feelings back at him as she whispered, "I love you too, Gil."

They sealed the mutual declaration with a kiss, mouths moving over each other softly at first... before need began to grow. Desire rose through her body like champagne bubbles, and she pulled at him, trying to bring him as close as possible, as his tongue hungrily tasted and explored the recesses of her mouth.

Memories of their earlier encounter floated through their minds... tactile memories of the encounter making their bodies buzz. His hands moved blindly over her body fervently, caressing every line and curve... while hers stroked his back.

He pulled roughly away from the kiss. "Cath," he breathed huskily.

She grasped his hips, walking backward until she was pressed against the shower wall, just behind the spray of water. "I need you, Gil," she growled, and pulled his hips aggressively against hers, moaning when she felt his arousal digging into her hip.

"You got me," he whispered, then leaned forward to capture her lips, clinging desperately as his hands glided over her breasts, down the flat plane of her stomach, past her waist and beyond, his fingers brushing against her intimately.

* * *

Grissom and Catherine slid slowly down the slick shower wall, chest battling against chest for oxygen... and for a moment they laid together in the tub, the spray pounding their orgasm-weary bodies. "Whoa..." Catherine breathed.

Grissom exhaled in a chuckle, dusting her chest with kisses, his tongue toying with her breasts. "My thoughts exactly."

When Catherine gave a shiver, he looked up with amusement dancing in his eyes. "You're ready to go again?"

She burst into a grin, then laughter at the incredulousness of his voice, and she almost didn't want to deny it. Still... "I'm getting cold, Gil. The water's lost its warmth."

"Ahh." He reached out for the bar in the shower and pulled out of his lover, rising to his feet, then reached a hand down to help her up. "We'd best be finishing up then, my dear."

She couldn't stop the devilish grin from creeping across her lips as she enquired curiously, "Y'think Nick had as much fun cleaning Sara up?"

He chuckled, then dropped a chaste kiss to her lips. "I highly doubt it."

* * *

"Ugh... gross... so disgusting..."

Nick rolled his eyes as he helped Sara, who was walking stiffly thanks to the dried mud, into their room with a hand on her waist. "It can't be THAT bad, Sara."

"Nick, I am covered with mud, and dirt, and grime, and..." She closed her eyes painfully, "Probably so much bacteria, I'll need to be quarantined."

He didn't mean to, but he couldn't help it--he began to laugh, only stopping to cry out in mock pain when Sara whacked him in the shoulder. "Ow, hey!"

"It's not funny!" she barked, tousled mud-crusted sable strands falling into her eyes while she pulled her shoes off, one hand clinging to Nick's bicep for support.

"I think it is," he replied softly, sending her a devilish smirk when she glared at him.

She grumbled something that skirted along the edges of his hearing while pulling her other shoe off, then straightened up and met his eyes, her hand falling from his arm back to her side. He gave her a friendly smile. "Sara, you gotta lighten up."

She cocked her head, staring at him as if he was insane... and gestured to her current state. "Lighten up. About this."

He shook his head, "About everything," he drawled, giving a brief shrug while folding his arms across his chest. "It's just a trip to a body farm."

"Yeah, and everybody's antics have been annoying the hell out of me since we left the parking lot at CSI."

At this, he raised his eyebrows. "Everybody's? Or Grissom and Catherine's?"

She shot him a look, then, upon catching the knowing expression on his face, she sighed in resignation and stepped further into the room. "Nick, we're friends, right?"

He nodded. "Absolutely," he replied without hesitation.

"I can talk to you when something's bugging me, right?"

"Sure." He grinned good-naturedly. "Nothin's ever stopped ya before, anyway."

She sighed, unresponsive to his quip, her mind elsewhere. "I've gotta know. Grissom and Catherine... you've known them a long time. You've worked with them a lot."

He nodded. "Well yeah, ever since I started here about seven years back." His eyes followed her as she reached for a newspaper off the nearby table, unfolding it and placing it at the foot of one of their two beds before seating her muddy self atop it.

She stared straight ahead, seemingly staring into space, as she furrowed her brows and asked, "Have they always... been like that?"

Nick quirked an eyebrow briefly before his lips settled into a sympathetic frown, and he went to her, sitting beside her. "How do you mean?"

A shrug rolled off her slender shoulders, and she turned to acknowledge his presence when the bed dipped beside her, their shoulders, arms, hips, and thighs coming in contact. Sara raised an eyebrow minutely at this--normally such an invasion of her personal space would set her on edge. "I mean, have they always been so..." Her mouth opened and closed while her brain searched out the right word, "Connected?"

Nick nodded slowly, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his thighs, rubbing his hands back and forth in the space between his knees. Sara found herself missing the contact already. "Yeah, pretty much."

She chuffed grimly, shaking her head back and forth while once again staring straight ahead. She felt Nick's eyes on her, felt his body heat mingle with hers once more as he sat up, but she kept her gaze straight ahead. "Y'know, it's funny. Looking back on my time with him in San Francisco, I could've sworn there might've been something there. But, no matter how much chemistry there was between us... no matter how much we had in common... there was always something holding him back. Something that kept him just out of my reach." She glanced up to meet his eyes once more, searching them back and forth. "It was her, wasn't it?"

The left corner of his mouth twitched sympathetically, and he held her gaze as he nodded. "Probably." His heart went out to her when he saw her eyes tilt toward her lap, and he reached out to grasp her hand, effectively gaining her attention once more. "Sara..."

"Hmm?"

He smiled. "This sounds so cliche, but... if Grissom can't see what he's got in you, then he's not worth the trouble."

She rolled her eyes, "Right..." and began to turn away.

"Hey..." His finger on her chin brought her gaze back to his. "I'm serious." The look in his eyes backed up that statement, and after a moment of silence passed, he emitted a tiny smile. "Now go take your shower and clean up, because..." He leaned close and sniffed lightly near her ear, whispering, "You stink."

Sara then gave him a hard shove and rose to her feet, glaring facetiously over her shoulder on her way to the bathroom, while he fell back on the bed laughing.

A few minutes after he heard the shower start and heard her step in, a groan sounded from behind the closed door. He couldn't help but laugh, and knocked on the door lightly while calling out teasingly, "Enjoying that pulsating shower-head, Sair?"

"Shut up!" she barked. "That was a groan of disgust."

He frowned thoughtfully. "Why?"

"Because the walls in this place are paper thin and I can hear Grissom and Catherine going at it in the shower!"

"Eww," he chuckled, repressing a shudder at the image. He then called back, "Are you hearing anything good?"

"Well, whatever he's doing to her over there, she sure is agreeing with him a lot! Man, that's sick."

Nick grinned. "Just natural human behavior, Sair."

"Still... gross."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay. Want me to come in there and wash your back, to take your mind off it?" He could've sworn he felt her smirking from all the way inside the bathroom, and that was confirmed as she called out, a smile in her voice...

"Keep dreaming, Stokes!"

He laughed raucously, yelling back in a teasing, sing-song tone, "Oh, I will!"

After another few minutes, he heard the shower turn off, then listened to the sound of the curtain being pulled back. "Hey, Sair?"

"What?"

"You hungry?"

There was a pause on the other side of the door, before she responded, "This another one of your lame-ass lines, Nick?"

He grinned. "Not this time. It was a legitimate question."

Another pause, then, "Yeah, I suppose I could eat."

"Wanna go get something from the vending machines with me?"

The bathroom door opened a moment later and Sara emerged, clad in a large white bath towel, her dark hair dripping onto her shoulders. She leaned against one side of the door frame while Nick leaned on the other, both seemingly undaunted by her current state of undress. "I guess so," she replied with a one-shouldered shrug. She then smirked. "You're not planning on going 'Dutch,' are you?" she teased.

He chuckled. "Nope. It's on me."

"Excellent." She grinned back, the sight of her gap-toothed smile inciting an even wider grin from Nick. This response seemed to have set her on edge, however, for her smile quickly faded. "What?"

"What?"

She nodded at him. "What was that look for?" she asked, and moved away to head to the dresser, brushing through her slowly-drying strands while keeping an eye on him in the mirror.

He smiled and shook his head, shrugging. "Nothin', I just..." He sighed.

She raised one eyebrow, still watching him through the mirror. "You what?"

He shrugged once more, his smile turning almost bashful as he made his way over to her. "I, uh... I certainly don't know what Grissom thinks of you, Sara, but..." He placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned close to her ear, whispering, "I think you're quite cute."

Their eyes held in the mirror, and Sara slowly smiled, feeling a blush tingeing her cheeks. Nick winked in response and squeezed her shoulders briefly before moving away, toward the bathroom. Her mind began to race then while she continued brushing out her hair, just barely registering Nick's promise that they would head to the vending machines when he was finished with his shower.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

INTERRUPTIONS

Authors: Anne and Caroline

Chapter 7/?:

Rating: NC-17

Caroline's Notes: Yay, G/C lovin'! And Snicker-love rocks.

Spoilers/Disclaimer/Summary: See ch. 1.

* * *

"We'd better run for the vending machines," Catherine suggested, licking her lips unconsciously while surveying Grissom's butt in his tight jeans.

"Why?" he asked, oblivious to her enjoyment while he buttoned his shirt.

Her smirk was devilish as she replied nonchalantly, "Because I'm about to jump you, and I need food first."

Grissom finally turned, just in time to catch her head angling slightly, attempting to follow the movement of his rear end. He chuckled. "You there, Cath?"

"Mmhmm," she murmured absently. Upon realizing his eyes were centered on her, her gaze snapped back up to his and she grinned, blushing slightly. "Shall we go?"

"We'd better," Grissom smirked, "But can you go first?"

She arched an eyebrow at this request. "Why?" she asked, drawing the word out warily.

He nodded at her post-shower attire. "Because you're wearing tight jeans, and you have a tendency to wiggle your butt when you walk." He shrugged, as if the reason was obvious. "I like to watch."

Her jaw dropped, incredulous at his observation... almost indignant. "I do NOT wiggle my butt!"

He nodded emphatically. "Yes you do. Trust me, I've thanked God for that fact for years."

She whacked him on the shoulder. "Gil Grissom!" she admonished. "Have you been checking me out?"

"Every damn day," he assured her, and nudged her out the door without further explanation. "Let's go."

When they arrived at the vending machine, Catherine stood in front of it, eyes wandering, perusing the options. Grissom stood behind her, teasingly pressing his body against hers as a form of distraction. She let out a low moan at the sensation, feeling his warmth against her.

"You feel so good," she murmured in a husky alto timbre, her head turning slightly.

"So do you," he echoed her thoughts, hands reaching up to cup her breasts and stroke them gently. "Cath... the quicker we choose food and eat, the quicker we can go back to our room and make love," he whispered, breath tickling her ear while he gently licked and tugged on the lobe. "And I want you so bad."

Catherine was quickly losing her mind, eyes slipping closed at his ministrations. "I want you too," she breathlessly moaned.

A pair of voices sounded in the distance, floating over the heads of the oblivious senior CSI's...

"You'd think that somewhere around here they'd have a decent place to get food," Sara complained, striding quickly behind Nick. "I mean, we paid enough."

"It's probably health regulations or something," Nick replied, in an effort to placate her. "Besides--" He suddenly stopped in the hallway, the unsuspecting Sara stumbling into his back. He spun to grab her wrists before she could fall backwards, and tugged her back toward him, his hand winding around her back.

"Nick! What was that for?" She attempted to peek around him, searching out the reason for his abrupt stop, but he grasped her arms and began steering her away before she could get a good look.

"Uh, on second thought, Sair, why don't we go find Warrick and see about ordering a pizza?"

"Warrick went back to retrieve the moron from the body farm," she reminded him. She pointed over his shoulder. "And there's a vending machine right there! I'm hungry, Nick."

"It probably won't have anything for leaf-eaters."

She narrowed her eyes at him, willing herself not to smack him when he smirked. "Then I'll just get some candy."

"Then you'll be on a sugar high," he reasoned, still trying to look casual while steering her away from the senior CSI's. "Come on Sair, I'll even spring for a veggie pizza."

"Nick, you're being ridiculous."

"Sara, trust me, you really don't want to--"

Sara had brushed past him and rounded the corner. "Oh my God!"

"--go around there," he finished in a sigh. Shaking his head, he followed her around the corner to find Grissom still facing the vending machine and Catherine standing in front of him, her face flushed. He raised his eyebrows. "Hey, Catherine. Grissom."

"Nick... Sara," Catherine stammered, feverishly attempting to straighten her clothes and wipe her lips at the same time. "Um, we were just... uh, just getting some dinner."

Grissom continued standing behind the strawberry-blonde, not game to move. He'd turned to acknowledge the junior CSI's, but kept his 'evidence' of their activities shielded behind Catherine.

"Sure looks like it," Sara growled.

Nick, sensing a storm brewing, moved to change the subject. "Uh, Warrick went to pick up Greg. We left him at the body farm."

"I'm sure that'll be an interesting drive home," Catherine murmured, then pointed to the vending machine. "You wanted something?"

Nick responded, "No" in unison with Sara's, "Yes."

Catherine's brows slowly ascended toward her hairline as she sighed out, "Ooookay. Ya know what? Grissom and I will just grab something and then we'll go. Right?" She turned back to her companion, giving him a pointed look.

"Sure, yes. Won't be a minute."

The two fumbled around with the vending machine, having to bang on a few times before retrieving their food. Catherine then shoved Grissom in front of her, facing away from the kids, and the pair then made a mad dash for their room. Sara and Nick watched their hurried retreat before turning to look at each other. "You're going to have to get the food out," Sara warned him.

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Huh? Why?"

She gestured toward the path of escape Grissom and Catherine had just taken, exclaiming, "Who KNOWS where their hands have been."

Nick grimaced and shuddered.

* * *

Upon returning to their room, Catherine and Grissom tossed their food on the bed. Grissom turned to lock the door, letting his breath out in a whoosh when he felt Catherine behind him.

"Kiss me," she commanded seductively.

He didn't need to be told twice. He promptly reversed their positions, pinning her to the door, as their lips crashed together, his body pressing against her. When he heard the sound of her stomach growling, he pulled away with a grin. "Hungry, Cath?"

She cracked a hint of a sheepish smile. "A little, yeah."

He made a sweeping gesture toward their array of goodies on the bed, humor in his tone. "Shall we try our gourmet meal?"

She chuckled. "Sounds good."

They each took a seat on the bed, heads leaning close as they sorted through the pile of food. Grissom held up an item, dangling it from his thumb and forefinger. "We have Cheetos, the cheap aphrodisiac."

Catherine smirked. "I don't think we have any problems in that area." Her eyes scanned the rest of the items on the bed. "Hershey bars, M&M's..."

"Potato chips," Grissom chimed in, opening a packet of Lay's. He plucked a chip from within the bag and began to chew. "Perfect."

Catherine arched an eyebrow in response and leaned over, reaching into the bag to retrieve a chip for herself. Popping it in her mouth, she immediately grimaced. "How can you eat that? It tastes like cardboard!"

"Hey!" he feigned a hurt expression. "I don't insult your food choices."

"As well you shouldn't." She popped a few M&M's in her mouth. "Or you wouldn't be getting any."

Grissom's eyes widened. "You'd stop making love with me just because I insulted what you eat."

Her grin was cheeky as she retorted, "Fickle, aren't I?"

"Oh, absolutely." He leaned over and stole one of her M&M's. "I have no idea why I'm in love with you."

"You're treading on thin ice, mister," Catherine warned playfully.

He arched an eyebrow in a challenge. "What are you going to do to me? Attack me with M&M's?"

She seemingly ignored his quip and leaned her head back, tossing an M&M in the air and catching it with a triumphant grin. Grissom sat back and watched this movement, enjoying the show. She caught him watching her while she went for another M&M, and this time, a smirk in place, she 'accidentally' dropped the M&M down her shirt.

Grissom gulped, eyes widening as they followed the path of the little chocolate treat down her shirt. "Ah... need some help, Cath?"

She glanced up at him and grinned. "Oh, I don't know. You look kind of busy there with your cardboard."

He opened his mouth to retort that it wasn't cardboard, then closed it and bit his lip instead; cardboard chips certainly weren't the most important topic at hand. He threw a glance at the small bag in his right hand, then tossed it carelessly over the side of the bed.

"Gil," Catherine groaned, grimacing, "Now there's going to be a huge mess on the floor." She gestured around them with slightly raised eyebrows. "And I don't think a place like this has maids."

"Well, then the chips will blend in with the rest of the place," he replied nonchalantly, and crawled over to her.

She arched one eyebrow, scooting backward on the bed until she bumped into the headboard. She sent him a warning look. "Gil..."

"Yes, Catherine?" he asked, a bit too innocently, finally reaching her.

"I... I..." Desire was rising, he was hovering so close, and he smelled so good, and... "I have an M&M down my shirt," she lamely stated.

He almost burst out laughing at the random statement, but as always, managed to keep a straight face. His finger slid upward along her inner thighs, running over the denim fabric that covered her shapely legs. "Want some help with that?"

She could barely manage a rapid succession of emphatic nods, and he emitted a grin, unbuttoning her shirt. After easing it back without any sign of the wayward M&M, he looked up at Catherine. "Must have gotten caught in your bra." He gently eased the straps down her arms and reached around her back, unhooking it with ease before pulling the offending article of clothing from her body.

The rogue M&M having been revealed, it slid down her stomach. Grissom glanced up momentarily, their eyes locking. He then bent down and closed his mouth around the tiny piece of chocolate, sucking it off her stomach with the briefest lick to her irresistible skin. Satisfied, he sat back on his knees. "Yum," he smiled at her.

Catherine's jaw had dropped, both in shock and pleasure from the stimulation he'd given her. "Gil..."

"What, you're jealous I didn't share the green M&M with you? There's something about those green ones, you know." He then leaned over and captured her lips in a deep kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and stroking hers.

She moaned, the taste of Gil and chocolate combined absolutely heavenly. Her arms wound around his neck, urging him closer. Encouraged, he pressed against her, their denim-clad pelvises rubbing primally against each other. "Gil," she demanded, her hands sliding quickly up his shirt.

Taking the hint, Grissom pulled his shirt off and then leaned over her once more. "I want to make love to you, Catherine."

"Insatiable, aren't you?" She managed a smile, heart thudding in her chest at the words he'd uttered. She'd never really considered Gil Grissom to be a stereotypical 'romantic.' She'd idly wondered, she'd fantasized, but his behavior made her fantasies and wonderings pale in comparison to reality.

As if hearing her thoughts, he smiled at her, letting his fingers gently stroke her bare skin. He bent down once more, brushing his lips to hers in a soft kiss. His hands still stroking, he broke away, pressing gentle kisses to her neck. Catherine's hands splayed across his chest, her fingers tracing indecipherable patterns on his skin.

Grissom shifted his attention to her breasts, his tongue tracing around the nipple torturously before finally sucking it into his mouth. Catherine let out a small whimper and arched her body upward, trying to get closer to him as she thrust her fingers into his graying curls. He wrapped his arms around her in response and gently tugged her downward on the bed, settling her against the pillows.

When she murmured his name, he smiled up at her, his hands stroking her abdomen. "Relax, Cath. I'm just getting started."

His hand slipped down to the waistand of her jeans, finger dipping beneath it teasingly. Catherine bucked up against him in response, and he grinned to himself. Her own hands traveled down to her waistband, attempting to undo the button, but Grissom covered her hands with his. "Allow me," he murmured.

She watched him through desire-laden eyes as he undid the button and eased the zipper down. He then reached his hand in and pressed against her panties, grinning when she groaned. "J-just take them off," she finally ground out.

"Why?"

"Well, Gil, I'm not sure if you've realized this yet... but it's pretty damn impossible to make love when we're still fully dressed."

"We're not fully dressed," he insisted innocently, his tone overly calm and scientific. It was as if he was rattling off a theory for a case. "Neither of us have a shirt on."

She let out a growl of frustration. "GRISSOM!"

With a chuckle, Grissom tugged off her jeans and panties, and stood up to remove his own jeans, and his boxers. Catherine ran an appreciative eye over him, nodding approvingly. "Very nice..."

"I'm glad you like," he replied, crawling back onto the bed. His hand trailed down her body, an adoring look on his face. "Because I love you."

* * *

Sara sighed and shook her head sadly, her body stretched out on one of the beds, head propped against the pillow as she listened to the goings-on in the other room. She fought to hold back tears as Nick re-entered their room, hanging up his cell phone.

"Alright, pizza should be here in thirty minutes or less." He grinned. "Otherwise, we get to go Dutch!"

"Great," she grumbled, not caring how much her neck would punish her tomorrow for the way she was slumped against the headboard.

Nick frowned in confusion. "What's wrong?"

Sara raised her eyebrows and nodded toward the wall separating their room from Grissom and Catherine's, in response. "You missed one hell of an encore performance."

His eyes widened. "They were going at it AGAIN?!"

She nodded slowly, staring at the wall, only diverting her gaze to visually follow Nick's movement to the other side of the bed, her body leaning slightly to the side as the mattress dipped with his weight. She then watched as he swung his legs up onto the bed, stretching them out, sitting up straight and leaning back against the headboard... very nearly mirroring her position. "Y'okay?"

Sara quirked one eyebrow and gave him a look. "Would you be?" She nodded toward the wall. "Let's say you had a thing for Catherine for however many years and you heard her getting it on with Grissom. Would you be okay?"

He shrugged. "Guess not," he surmised, and craned his neck slightly to look down at her. When he gained her attention, he attempted a charming smile. "Although, I'd probably count myself lucky that I at least had a beautiful woman with me regardless of what Catherine was up to."

She sighed, a few butterflies minutely flapping their wings in her stomach, though her main focus was on the couple in the other room at the moment. "Whatever."

Nick rolled his eyes and reached for her arm, grasping her elbow and pulling her up to a sitting position beside him. "C'mon Sair, buck up. It sounds trite, but... it's not the end of the world if Grissom doesn't love you. There are tons of other guys you could focus your attention on."

She studied him for a moment with narrowed eyes, before quipping, "What after-school special did you fall out of?"

He chuckled. "Seriously. Focus on..."

"Do NOT say Greg Sanders," she warned, holding up a finger to stop him. "I'd end up killing him before the second date."

He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "I promise, I was not about to say Greg. I'd hate to see you throttle that poor kid." After a moment's thought, he amended with a facial shrug, "Actually, that might be kinda fun to watch."

When she grinned in response, he grinned back and digressed to their previous line of discussion. "Seriously, though. Focus on..."

"Who?"

"Well," he smiled, "How about me?"

Her raised eyebrows and slightly incredulous expression conveyed her shock, though a smile was slowly spreading. "You. You want me to focus on you."

He shrugged and returned the smile, folding his arms across his chest. "Sure, why not? I'll be your Grissom-patch!"

Her grin was nearly ear-to-ear now, and she chuckled, placing a hand over her eyes as she groaned slightly. "Oh Nick, it's not as easy as that."

"Why not? Come on, just try it."

Another quirk of the eyebrow was emitted. "Right now?"

"Yeah. Right now. We can pretend we're on a date."

"Here in this crappy motel room? This is where you'd take me on a date?"

He rolled his eyes. "Well no, not to a crappy motel room." He grinned devilishly as he added, "You're probably not THAT easy," then promptly ducked to miss her swinging arm.

When her facetious glare erupted into a smirk, he laughed and sat back up, their bodies connecting at the side from their shoulders to their sock-clad toes. "No, let's pretend we're at a restaurant. Or a coffee shop. Or better yet, how about we're hanging out at one of our houses?"

"You do realize we've already done that before? Hung out at one of our houses?"

"Yeah, but let's pretend that this time it's a little different. Like let's say that, over the four years we've worked together at the lab and over the four years we've been hanging out together after hours, we've started secretly developing crushes on each other."

"Crushes?" she repeated with a grimace. "So we're twelve now in this little fantasy world you're building?"

"Just work with me here, Sair..."

"Fine, fine."

"Okay." He settled back against the headboard and reached for the television remote off the nightstand. "So we're at my place..."

"My place."

He grinned. "Okay, we're at your place... and we're watching TV." With a click, the TV came on, the one television station coming in rather grainy.

Sara grimaced and tilted her head, attempting to figure out what was depicted on the screen. "My body is wracked with romance already, Big Boy," she teased, and threw him a look.

He sighed. "Are we gonna have to do this the hard way?" he threatened.

"Depends," she shot back, raising an eyebrow at him conspicuously. "What's 'the hard way'?"

Encouraged by her flirty tone, he replied, "The 'hard way,' Sara, would be me throwing you down on your couch, or in this case the bed, and laying one on you."

She drew in a breath quickly, letting it out with, "Okay okay, I'll play along for now," though unsure of why she responded the way that she did.

Nick masked his brief disappointment with a smile. "Alright... so we're sitting on your couch at your place watching TV."

"Right."

"Right."

She glanced at him in her peripheral vision, then turning slightly to look at him. "And this is no different than any other time we've done that, only this time it's a date?"

"Yeah."

"Soo..." She furrowed her brow. "What does that mean?"

"It means that maybe we start to get a little closer to each other."

Sara eyed their current position, glancing back up at Nick with a smile. "I'd say we're already pretty close, Nick."

"You're right. So then, I'd probably start to show off a bit of affection, to let you know that I'm into you."

"Okay... like what?"

"Well, since I'm an old-fashioned kind of guy," he grinned for good measure, "And don't like to move too fast, I'd probably... reach for your hand." With that, he reached down and grasped her hand, which was resting on her thigh.

She swallowed as discretely as she could at the contact. "Okay..."

"Then while we're watching TV," he nodded at the snowy television screen, "I'd probably start massaging your hand, or playing with your fingers."

"Uh-huh..."

He smiled at her. "Now you go."

Snapping out of the brief trance his hand massage had induced, she raised her eyebrows slightly. "Huh? Oh, right." She sighed. "Well... since I don't like to move too fast, either, I might just lay my head on your shoulder." She did so, and Nick immediately leaned his head on hers.

For a moment they fell into silence, each contemplating just what they were doing, their heads still leaning together, fingers gently twining together and untangling, repeating the process over and over again. After a long moment, Nick spoke, albeit softly. "Sara?"

"Hmm?" She opened her eyes slowly, startled by the fact that she hadn't even realized she'd closed them.

Upon feeling his head raise from hers, she lifted her eyes to meet his, dual chocolate irises sparring back and forth. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then seemed to think better of it and closed his mouth again. She smiled, her gaze starting to drift toward his lips when there was a knock at the door.

Nick sighed, reluctantly rising from his spot, his body heat craving Sara's as he went for the door. "Must be the pizza," he muttered, and flung the door open.

On the other side stood a thoroughly amused-looking Warrick, watching a scathingly-glaring, mud-caked Greg. Without further pretense, Greg yelled, "You LEFT me at a BODY FARM?!"

Nick couldn't help the slow-spreading grin, turning over his shoulder briefly to see Sara rising from the bed before turning back to Greg. "Nice to see you too, Greggo." He feigned a somber expression. "We missed you."

Greg's eyes narrowed all the more, and he stomped into the room without waiting for the go-ahead from Nick. "Like hell you did," he growled, and spun on his heel to face the other three CSI's once he reached the center of the room. "For TWO HOURS I was stuck there... TWO hours! Do you even KNOW how scarred I am?"

"Mud's a good look for you, Greg," Sara suddenly piped up, wearing a cheeky grin.

Greg immediately rounded on the tall brunette, before Nick could step in front of her. "And YOU!" He pointed accusingly. "YOU'RE the reason I got left out there!"

She raised her eyebrows. "No, actually YOU'RE the reason you got left out there. You, and your little Wile E. Coyote stunt that you pulled."

Greg paused in the midst of his tirade long enough to study Sara with narrowed eyes, then spat out, "Why the hell are YOU so calm? You couldn't have gotten laid in the two hours I was stuck out there." Then, upon noticing the flush tingeing both her face and Nick's, he raised his eyebrows. "Or maybe you did." He turned to Nick, folding his muddy arms across his chest as best he could with the grime having dried on his clothing. "So tell me, Nick. How'd you break the ice queen?"

When Sara's jaw dropped indignantly, Nick stepped forward, raising a finger to the youngun. "Watch it, Greg! You can be pissed we left you at the body farm, you can be upset that you're covered in mud and crap, but you don't talk that way in front of a woman." He pointed behind him, where he was shielding Sara. "Not to Sara, not to Catherine, not to any woman. Y'hear me?"

Greg continued to glare, his ire obviously not wavering even under Nick's big-brother tactics. "Loud and clear, Cowboy." He then turned on his heel and headed for the door, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go ask Grissom why he didn't come back for me."

"Uhh..." Nick and Sara exchanged a glance, and when she looked down to her feet, he patted her arm and moved toward the other two, leaning on the door jamb near Warrick. "That's prolly not a good idea, Greggo," he informed him. He looked to Warrick. "They're a little, uh... busy."

Greg raised an eyebrow, a spark of intrigue lighting his eyes. "Busy, or getting busy? There's quite a difference."

Nick mirrored Greg's eyebrow quirk. "Take a wild guess," he drawled.

A moment passed in which both men inadvertently conjured an image in their minds, which resulted in both of them wincing and grimacing in unison. "Ew," Greg muttered. "Grissom, naked?"

Nick nodded slowly, smirking as he watched Greg's expression change. "Although," Greg surmised, "That means Catherine's naked in there, too."

Warrick and Nick then watched as Greg seemed to drift into a Catherine-cloud, a dopey smirk edging across his face. "Ha ha... now THAT'S something I can support." He then yelled toward the wall, "SEX HER UP, GRISSOM! SEX HER UP GOOD!"

"Get OUT!" Nick exclaimed with a chuckle, shoving the lab tech out the door and rabbit-punching Warrick's shoulder good-naturedly. He grinned at Warrick's 'help me' look sent to him over his shoulder, and shook his head as he heard Greg halfway down the hall: "I wonder if we can hear them through our wall!"

TBC


End file.
